


In the waters of the world

by Lavender_Seaglass



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/M, but everything is a dream isn't it, celestials, dream stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Seaglass/pseuds/Lavender_Seaglass
Summary: But I told the shade I knew what it was--and it did not hold sway over me. Nor could it corrupt me. I was not light which it could snuff out, nor was I darkness into which it could blend. I was grey, I was maybe, I was not sure I still existed, I was not bound by the motions of a dead god’s remains.--Or, a mute mage finds her voice again wandering through someone else's dreams.
Relationships: original character/unknown
Kudos: 2





	In the waters of the world

**THE UNSEA**

I wandered through a hundred lifetimes, wondering when I would see you again. I gathered up all the faces worn by the souls I had seen--each face new and wonderful and precious as a nascent blossom about to bloom--with my left hand to hold and in my right hand I held the star which you might have called the heart of your constellation, if such constructs ever could have hearts, though we both know their eyes are placid as a grave through their rages for a reason, which is this: though they are eternal, when they were called down to our plane and walked amongst us in vessels wrought from the essence of another realm, they still did not share anything that we lusted to know. They did not serve mortals, and they did not answer, not prayers, not pleas, not impassioned praises, even when faithfulness did endure. But at least they do not tempt us with power. We were the ones who tempted ourselves.

I held these things in my hands and then I scattered them like so much dust, gone from me like so many wasted years, with nothing gained nor lost. I searched for you, still, trying to come upon you in a place you may have never walked at all.

But did that mean you didn’t belong there?

No, I thought, in answer to myself, myself being the only one who could answer in the solitude which swallowed up any possible or impossible outside sounds. A dragon could have shrieked its death of unimaginable falling doom at an eclipse and it would not have reached me, for these shores are foreign to anything anyone else might have once known. There was no decay here, and no shadow, for there was no light. This was not a part of the tapestry that was woven by the tail of the King who could command His outrageous children with a single shouted word. 

All the same, though there was nothing for Her here to covet, the shade of the eldest shadow came about to haunt me, and asked me, did I know, did I know, how could I not know?

But I told the shade I knew what it was--and it did not hold sway over me. Nor could it corrupt me. I was not light which it could snuff out, nor was I darkness into which it could blend. I was grey, I was maybe, I was not sure I still existed, I was not bound by the motions of a dead god’s remains. And I knew the shade’s name. We both knew I could control Her nature. So the shadow lost interest because there was no crack or fractures in me it could have bled in from and so cast itself in this place that was not a world, not even a proper plane, not even a demi one. I have never claimed to be strong or tried to be that strong at all. I am only myself. I only contain what I can.

I would have proceeded in darkness forever, if that was what was left to me. For I still needed to find you.

I wandered, and I wandered, and it felt like I might have been going in a circle. Like a prayer repeated, again and again and again, each time the cycle bringing nothing but the release and peace of a repetition come round again. This was frustrating beyond what I could tolerate, like a stone I could not lodge from my shredded skin, a breath I could not take as I drowned to death beneath a cascade assaulting my being. Underwater, with no recourse to action, I remembered a glimpse of a treasure: the blue flicker of a soul which is known to some as the will to peace, a song which is sung by an ancestor when you have descendents who can listen.

They don’t even have to be your own.

But there was no relief in this for me. Not for me. Not for a lost soul.

There was nothing left for me to do. Nor was there anything outside of me. I had to reach inwards and exert myself and do what it took to save my soul. A kind person with a gentle touch and eyes the colour of an unmemorable summer’s day told me they would like to believe that no underserving soul would be left behind, ever, but what is one soul when many can be saved, and who are we mortals to reckon in such cosmic balances? The Woodland Man may be able to offer a solution to such a question, but he is at the bottom of the sea and knows what is, has been, and might be, and knows more than anyone save for the one who went mad in the true, unbounded knowing of his nature. At the bottom of the sea, his exact silver edges glinted with a threat that would menace again in another Age. Never would I be able to pay His price anyway. 

Order is not a kind thing, but Anu is said to be where we--the children of his offspring that came to be from his wondering--come from, or it is at least where we are drawn, like torchbugs to honey. Or children to a parent’s warmth. For how could a child imagine their father has concealed a knife, and intends to plant it into their back, with the icy point of the blade resting less than an exquisite thread’s breadth away from their small, beating, trusting heart?

I thought about conjuring light, in that place, but I did not. I was lost, but at least I was not ended. Not yet.

**.**

Finally, I was close to my end. I was scattering, I was vanishing, I was a fluttering of moth's wings, I was an echoing note, I was not much left at all. The colours of my soul were as faded as my wits and no-one could mistake me for anything other than what I was, had I come across anyone at all. When the stars shone I was obliterated, and even by the lights of the unstars of the Serpent was I nearly undone.

That was when, grasping to be, I decided to let go. I decided that I had had enough. Not that I couldn’t take anymore, but that I simply would not. I didn’t have to.

I made the decision, and instead of wandering forward and backwards without end I took a step sideways. And then another one. The sea came up to my calves. I did not drown, the waves merely lapped at my skin like the touches of a fond friend sorely missed wishing to convey how true the yearning has been.

And there you were. I know you weren’t just waiting, but your light was bright, so very unbelievably bright. I wanted to smile, but I was too tired.

So I embraced you instead. I remember that you wrapped your arms around me. Dawn wasn’t too far off then.

. . .

Upon waking I wasn’t sure what it was exactly that had roused me. The sun was still not quite above the horizon though its light was already a cascade of shivering iridian shards cast through the thousand pieces of glass crafted into the form of a single floating bird hung near the window.

The air was cool, but not biting, though it gave me a reason to retreat back beneath the covers, and into the warm hollow created by his chest. The place of greatest safety I had known and felt, the place I could fill without deficiencies.

Pressing close, I drew the blankets closer and tucked my knees in again. A sigh, a blissful floating of the mind, followed by a sensation which triggered a pleasing remembrance. I had not been roused, but I had been guided. By the beating of his heart, which told me he was alive, alive, alive.

They say that there are many ways you can walk through the world. There are many paths, as many as there are souls flitting from one end of life to the next. I am lucky that I have found this way, which is walking by your side even after the path no longer endures.

* * *

  
**THE SEA**

The waves crashing into the shore. Sand, seaweed, a thousand tiny shattered shells deposited. The distilled light of the moons shimmering between toes. And a thousand thousand crabs burrowing back into the surf. A hand on my back, a smile as warm as the sun over the Topal, and eyes just as gold. Both our breaths heavy from the exertion of effort. The run had taken us many miles from where we started. The water from the sacred spring sloshed in my stomach and my skin felt like it was glowing.

‘Do you think you’re ready now?’

A flash of light as you brought your hand up, Mara’s grace reflecting Magnus’ gift. Hope, tempered by an abiding faith. Not to be rewarded, but I was so glad that I could fulfill it.

‘Yes.’ It was my first word in weeks.

With one arm you lifted me so that gravity no longer bound me, and I kissed you so I felt and shared all the pleasing sensations of your laughing joy.

  
  



End file.
